Dreams
by ShadowedRainbow
Summary: Dreams are something easily lost; especially when one lives in the Great Game for so long. Something unexpected in a place full of memories, brings back the dreams. (I'm not good at summaries as you can tell)


Dreams

Dawn was just tingeing the sky as he made his way slowly through the standing headstones. The grey of early morning turning slowly pink touching the matching grey of stone, changing the deep color of mourning to the colors of hope. In his hand he clutched the single white rose he had brought. His fingers tightened slightly bringing the prick of a thorn into his palm. The small pain felt good. It was proof that he still lived. His feet crunched on the frost ridden grasses as he wound his way to the large oak tree at the edge of the cemetery.

From behind him, he could hear the steps of his escort and shadow, far enough back that he had the illusion of privacy at least, but still close enough that he knew he was covered if anything should happen. In the dawn stillness, he wasn't certain if he wanted the peace to last or not. Maybe adrenaline would chase away the lethargy that had plagued him since their last affair.

_Maybe, I'm just getting too old for the game._ The thought wasn't a new one. He had been doing this for a very long time, longer than he had ever thought. Almost fifteen years now. Fifteen years of putting himself in danger, of gun shots, drugs, and various other things. This last affair had driven the point painfully home. He still limped slightly from the bullet in his thigh, and in the morning's chill, his bruised ribs ached. Only the knowledge that the old game was still afoot kept him in it. That and the fear of not being useful anymore.

He stopped under the oak, his goal at last reached. Such a pitifully small plot of land to mark the passing of such an incredible soul, he thought. He knelt to trace the name inscribed on the headstone, fingers shaking slightly as he did so.

_I miss you, tovarisch. _The words were a mere whisper in his mind, but carried the weight of all the years they had been together. He gripped the headstone tightly, his knuckles white against the dark grey granite. Images flitted behind his eyelids, scrunched tightly against the tears that threatened. A pair of laughing eyes, the sound of a voice, the patter of gunfire as they made one more escape… all melded into a mélange of memory.

Bitter anger surged through him once more. What good had they accomplished? None as far as he could tell. Their victories only minor inconveniences in the grand scheme of things. Personal lives, dreams, hopes all given up to the monster that was intrigue. Oh sure, they had had some good times, but those were few and far between. Taking the _Pursang_ out, some of the women they had met, romanced and left, but always the friendship; the deep camaraderie of their underworld lives as their mainstay. But that was gone. Lost in the affair that had ended the bright spark that had kept him warm for so long. Gone in the instant when rescue had been too slow and the drugs too quick.

Cursing softly he stood, his knee aching in time with his thigh. He bent and placed the white rose in the container he had left there so long ago. Gently he straightened it and removed its predecessor, petals brown and brittle.

"You always believed." He spoke to the cold morning air. "Through all the years, no matter what happened, you always believed. I'm sorry, tovarisch, but I can't dream any more." The words were full of broken dreams and bitter regret. He closed his eyes once more against the tears that filled his eyes, and the pain that gripped his heart. "What am I going to do now?"

The question was rhetorical, no answer expected. He stood waiting though, just as he always did, hoping for something that would break the silence, something for him to believe in once more. But no answer came, not even the sigh of a breeze in the bare branches above his head.

He opened his eyes, squinting in the now bright dawn. Looking once more at the headstone, he turned to leave, pulling his sunglasses out of his overcoat. As he slid them over his eyes, a flash of white on his peripheral caught his attention. His training kicked in and he turned quickly, cursing under his breath at the pain the move caused.

A movement at the edge of the cemetery and the flash of white came once more. Something parted the deep underbrush and for a moment time stood still. A slender white head poked out of the thicket and the sun glittered brightly on the sight. His breath caught in his throat as his eyes met those of the creature that stood revealed in the morning light.

Deep green eyes stared into his own and for that instant he knew he had found his dreams again. Then the chimeric creature faded back into the thicket, the sun's rays glinting like diamonds on the horn as it disappeared. He stood frozen in his tracks, his mind numb with the vision that he had been given.

Gradually the spell faded and he was able to move. He didn't speak to the young agent who acted as his escort but walked past him toward the dark limo that waited at the edge of the graveyard. There was a bounce in his step and for the first time in a very long time, he had a dream to sustain him.

She watched him from the safety of her grove, the slender human once so sad, but now at peace. She tossed her head as she stepped out of the thicket that concealed her hiding place. Moving with the grace of all creatures long thought gone, she picked her way to the place where he had stood. She lowered her head to the white rose that he had left behind. She nosed it gently, her breath stirring the petals and she ghosted her horn over the headstone in a caress. A sound from the human world sent her quickly back to her safe place. As she knelt beside the cool marble fountain that graced her grove, she heard someone call her name. A soft thank you wafted between the worlds and a kiss caressed her forehead. Her mane ruffled and phantom hands scratched her itchy places. She snorted in pleasure. Humans, even ones who had crossed over, had their uses.

The gold rays of mid morning touched the rose. The petals sparkled in the light with diamond brightness and cast a prism on the letters of the headstone. The prism shifted and shimmered in the light chasing the shadows from the name there.


End file.
